A Doggerel Coin! Poem by Sreeram Vasudevan

Selfish is this world,
so are these people,
other's inked word,
are presented as theirs, these people!
and that they become,
mongers whom appreciation is the income!

Who shall be appreciated?
The poet who brings forth to the world, this poetry?
The poet who writes this prose in sanguine?
in whose breath is poetry intricated,
in his heart runs his work of art with blood!

What to say for the man whose word;
was seen, yet ignored his onerous blood!

Thousand thunderous claps after that hear,
for the one who merely 'presented' it here,
the one who gathered all the applause,
the creator was ignored for no cause?

This is the world,
and these are the people,
the globe is ours, so are its people!

All seems good when at a distance,
when near, is just a doggerel coin,
that irks the peace of my heart,
with that silly din!